To Shun the Light & Embrace the Darkness
by PhoenixScribe
Summary: A sequel to From the Light...Into Darkness. Erik and Angelina continue their adventure with a daughter, a new student, and a figure that hides in the shadows hellbent on revenge. Who will emerge victorious? Is Erik meant for a 'normal' life? Join us..
1. The Past is a Beacon

**A/N:** _To my dearest readers…here it is. This is the sequel to "From the Light". We hope that you enjoy it as much as you have done the other one. Please remember that the updates will more than likely be once a week. We would love to hear all comments, reviews, suggestions and the like. We enjoy hearing it all._

_Enjoy!_

_With much love,_

_Erik_

_**To Shun the Light & Embrace the Darkness**_

**Chapter 1 – The Past is a Beacon**

Venice – 1889

The moon illuminated the blackness of the river below. She stood there, her dress blowing the breeze and her dark curls weighing heavily on her shoulders. Her midnight blue gown seemed to match the night sky with only the sparking diamonds that were shinning high above missing. The trembling of her fingers was only an indication of the cold air and not the nervousness that boiled inside of her.

"Angelina?"

Erik stood at the end of the bridge and watched Angelina turn toward him. Her smile shone brighter than any star that he could see in his lifetime. The skin that was exposed seemed to glow with a radiance he had never seen before. Her protruding belly was hidden well under the fabric of her dress. He longed to feel the baby that was growing inside of her kick against his rough hands.

"Are you alright?" Erik rushed to her side and saw her trembling fingers. His hands embraced hers and he drew her near to him. "Why are you trembling?"

"It is cold by the river, Erik."

He quickly removed his overcoat and wrapped it about her shoulders. His hands brushed against her sensitive skin and she trembled even more.

"Maybe we should do this some other night."

"I…" Angelina did not want to admit that she was nervous to marry Erik. He had proposed to her atop of the highest rooftop in Rome beneath the stars. It had been the most romantic event of her life. She did not want to spoil the moment because of her nervousness. "No, Erik. We will do this tonight."

Erik placed his hands on either side of her stomach. The baby was not stirring tonight. He smiled and rubbed his thumbs gently against the fabric that lay taut against her stomach. "The baby is asleep."

"The baby is ready to be born any day, Erik. I am almost nine months. He will not wait any longer."

"You are sure it is a boy?"

Angelina smiled and shook her head. "I am not sure of anything. But do you not wish for an heir to your legacy?"

"My legacy will live on without an heir." He nuzzled against her neck and drew her closer to him. "Men one day will write about me, but a boy to carry on my name would be…nice."

She giggled but then stopped when she felt the cold of the mask. Drawing back from him, Angelina put her hand to the mask. "Must you wear this?"

"I wear it so that the priest will not be frightened when he marries us."

Angelina turned as she heard a voice behind her. A priest, dressed in a formal outfit, stood at the edge of the bridge. He spoke in Italian and she could not understand him. _Is this how the whole ceremony will be? Will it only be in Italian so that I cannot understand the vows I make to Erik?_

Erik began walking toward him and speaking in the priest's native tongue. They shook hands and he led the priest toward Angelina.

"She is as beautiful as you said she was, Monsieur," he said in almost perfect English. The priest smiled at Angelina and bowed. "Your fiancé has spoken nothing but kind words about you."

His accent was heavy and deep but Angelina was grateful that he could speak English.

"He is too kind, your grace." Angelina shook his hand and smiled. "I am grateful that you are marrying us. Most men of the cloth would not marry outside of the church."

"The good Monsieur has contributed a great deal to our church. We could not refuse him."

"If we could, your grace." Erik moved along side of Angelina and grasped her hand. "The night is growing into day."

"That it is, Monsieur." Producing a Bible from the long flowing robes, he opened to a page and looked at the loving couple. "We are gathered here today to join this man and woman in holy matrimony. Marriage is not a vow to be taken lightly. It is a union in which a man and woman pledge their undying love for one another."

Angelina took a deep breath and looked at Erik. He had been looking at her, hoping for no signs of regret or doubt. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand – reassuring him that she would not falter.

"Before God and the sky above, a couple is willing to pledge their undying love to the heavens above. Monsieur Alcott…"

Angelina looked at Erik with wide eyes. She leaned in close. "Who is he speaking of?"

"Angelina, I do not know of my last name. I was too young to remember it when I was sold to the carnival. If we are to survive in this world, I had to produce a name."

"But it is not even French!"

"This name will be harder for your father to track down. You know of the men he sends after us."

Angelina solemnly nodded her head. Her father, the Vicomte de Changy, had sent many men after them to find them and bring her back home to Paris and possibly to kill Erik. They had been avoiding them for almost two years.

"You are right."

"Monsieur Alcott?"

"Continue, your grace."

"Monsieur Alcott, do you take Mademoiselle Angelina to be your wife? To have and to hold? Through sickness and in health? As long as you both shall live?"

Erik smiled and nodded. "I do."

The priest looked at Angelina, grasping Erik's hand. "Do you, Mademoiselle Angelina, take Monsieur Alcott to be your husband? To have and to hold? Through sickness and in health? As long as you both shall live?"

There was a slight hesitation until her heart finally gave into what she had wanted for so long. She had loved Erik for years. Their union would only bring her more happiness. Their baby would unite them more than she had ever hoped for.

Smiling, she replied, "I do."

"By God's will and grace, I do present thee has husband and wife. Monsieur Alcott, you may kiss your beautiful bride."

The priest walked away as Erik turned Angelina to him. The moon shone high above, illuminating the newly married couple upon the bridge. Her hand snaked it way to his mask and quickly removed it. She threw it into the murky depths below.

"Angelina…"

"We are husband and wife now, Erik. You are not to hide behind this mask that you have worn for so long. It is bad enough that you live in the darkness without me. I will not have you hiding from me."

"As you wish." He leaned in close and kissed her passionately on the lips.

She had never grown tired of his kisses or his touches. Her soul sung as he deepened the kiss. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and wished for the night to never end.

Italy – the country of passion, art, and love. It would be a country that Angelina would never forget. Their travels had taken them all over the world – Milan, Paris, London, and even the far reaches of Tokyo. But everything would pale in comparison to their night in Venice. It was the night where Erik and Angelina had finally made their future and their love for one another known to the entire world.


	2. The Family Man

**A/N:**_ Dearest Readers,_

_This is the next chapter. Thank you all for your unbelievable comments. They were much appreciated. We hope you continue to follow us on our adventure. A new character will be introduced in this one. You will all hear from this person in the near future. Enjoy! As always, read and review._

_With much love,_

_Angelina_

**Chapter 2 – The Family Man**

New York City – 1906

The hustle and bustle of one of the largest cities in the world produced sounds that no man should hear. The daily racket of automobiles and screaming of children were just some of the noises that were slowly driving him insane. He sat at his piano in the grand study of his home. His fingers had rested on the ivory keys that he had been stroked constantly for months. The compositions he had been working on were suffering every morning. This morning his piano was suffering the slings and arrows of the daily grind.

"Would someone please tell them to be quiet!" Erik screamed. "Must they be so disrespectful so early in the morning?"

The door creaked open and he glanced over to see an angel standing in the doorway. A dark red flowing dress seemed to stand out against her pale skin. Her eyes sparkled and seemed to dull out the pendant she wore around her neck.

"And must you join them with your tirade?"

Erik smiled and held out his hand – beckoning for her to join him. "I am sorry, my love, but I have never seen a city so enamored on not sleeping."

Angelina grasped his hand and joined him sitting on the glossy black piano bench. "You must learn to drown it out, Erik. You have chosen to stay in New York. It is a city that never sleeps."

"I thought that was Chicago, mother," said a voice from the doorway.

Erik and Angelina both looked toward the doorway to see a beautiful young woman standing there. She was dressed in a well-fitted light pink gown with her blonde ringlets pinned up.

"No, my dear. Chicago is known as the windy city." Angelina rose and walked over to the young woman. "Have you been teaching her useless things again, Erik?"

"Father has taught me many things, but not useless or enough to suit my curious mind."

"A girl your age, Elizabeth, should not be as curious as you are." Erik began playing the piano – a tune both women had heard enough to recognize. It was a piece from the opera he had written which was the last one they had both performed in.

Elizabeth Alcott was a beautiful young woman who had just turned the mature age of 17. She was the apple of both her father and mother's eye. Elizabeth had her mother's smooth skin and petite body. Her eyes, temper, and talent came from her father. She was the perfect mixture of both parents. She was often told that no one knew where her golden locks had come from. It was a complete mystery to both of her parents and to herself.

"Father, I am a grown woman."

"You are but a child."

Elizabeth went wide eyed as she turned to Angelina. "Mother…"

"I am not involving myself in this discussion. I know better than to get between the two of you." She turned to leave the room and begin down the stairs. "I will be downstairs, making breakfast if you two wish to join me before lunch."

Elizabeth turned from looking at her mother. She looked at the figure sitting at the piano. His fingers glided over the keys as if they were swimming in water. The movements were graceful like a waltz.

"How do you do that?"

"With much practice." Erik looked up at his daughter without breaking from his song. "I have told you this repeatedly."

"You are always occupying the piano."

"That is no excuse, Elizabeth. You have many other outlets that you may use to your advantage. You are lazy and that will be your downfall."

She leaned against the cracking doorframe. "Why do you always say those things to me? Do you not know how hard I try to please you?"

"Do you?"

"Of course I do! I am constantly trying to improve upon my playing, my singing, and even my dancing – as much as mother knows that I dislike it."

"If you were not so preoccupied with a certain boy…"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and sighed. "Jean-Claude is not just a mere boy."

"He distracts you, Elizabeth. You have not been practicing."

"And how would you know? Have you been watching me?"

Erik shook his head and looked back down at the keys. "I have more trust in you than you think I do. However, if your dallying with the boy continues, I will have to cease my extra lessons for you."

She rushed over to the piano and stopped him from playing. Erik looked up into Elizabeth's eyes. Tears were ready to fall at a moment's notice.

"Please, father…I am begging you. Do not stop your lessons. You know how much joy that it brings me."

"Elizabeth Christine…come down to breakfast before your food gets cold. You must attend Mass this morning," Angelina shouted up the stairs. "I would like for you to leave on a full stomach."

Erik patted Elizabeth's hand and rose from the bench. "Let us go downstairs before your mother decides to do away with us both. She is continually slaving over breakfast, lunch, and dinner so that we may fill our stomachs."

"Do not avoid me, father. Please, tell me that you will continue to teach me."

"I will always teach you." He gently kissed her forehead and wiped away a lingering tear. "But do not think that I do not know you are not practicing."

"I promise to practice."

"Do not make promises that you cannot keep."

Erik brushed passed her as Elizabeth stood in the middle of the large study. She looked at the piano sitting in front of her. Sitting down on the bench, her fingers grazed the keys lightly, touching them so that they would not make a sound.

She longed to play as well as her father did. During the night, she would sneak from her room and sleep in the doorway just to hear him play. She had tried to mimic his movements with her own fingers, but never seemed to get it right.

_You must find your own way to play. You cannot mimic someone else's and expect it to sound the same way._

It was odd, for Elizabeth, to have parents that were both talented as they were. Her mother was a dancer, a singer, and a pianist. Her father was a world famous composer, a pianist, a singer, and from her mother's claims, a dancer. She was none of those things. Although in her heart, she knew that somewhere deep down that there was a composer lying dormant. She longed to be able to convey her thoughts onto parchment – to compose a great opera that the entire world would fall at her feet clamoring for.

"Elizabeth Christine!"

Jean-Claude had offered her the world. She was willing to take him up on the offer. He was a young man who was secure in his future. Elizabeth didn't understand why her father hated him so.

"I will not ask again, Elizabeth," Angelina yelled impatiently.

Elizabeth rose from the bench and walked down the winding staircase. Her thoughts had always belonged to the music within her mind. Did her father have the same feelings she had? Did the notes haunt her until he scribbled them onto parchment? Did his fingers tingle as they danced on the ivory keys as they made his music come alive?

"I am so glad that you could join us," Angelina said – not turning from the stove.

"I am sorry, mother. I was…" She watched as her father eyed her with concern. "…pondering what I was going to do after Mass."

"And what are you doing, my dear?" Erik asked inquisitively.

"I will come home for my lesson, as always." Elizabeth smiled as her father nodded. "I believe today is Mozart, is it not?"

"Bach. We covered Mozart last time."

"But I love Mozart," Elizabeth whined.

"Mozart has been studied for several weeks. It is time to move onto another composer." Erik watched as Angelina did various tasks around the kitchen. "Angelina, are you going to join us?"

"I have too much to do – dishes to clean, windows to wash, and…" Angelina screamed as Erik pulled her onto his lap. She slapped him with the dish towel she had in her hand. "Erik, how many times have I told you not to do that?"

Elizabeth smiled as she watched her parents kiss. Standing, she took the Bible off of the table. She envied their love and hoped one day she would find a man that would love her as much as her father did her mother. Her thoughts turned again to Jean-Claude but quickly faded. "I will return in an hour."

Angelina quickly broke the kiss and looked over at Elizabeth. "Do you wish for me to walk with you to St. Mary's?"

"I believe I can make it." She walked toward the door and turned back to the two of them. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being my parents. Not many children I know have talented parents like I do. Most can boast about their riches and worldly possessions. I can boast of how talented and famous my parents are."

Angelina rose and walked over to Elizabeth. She put her daughter's face in her hands. "You are not ashamed because we cannot provide you with what your friends have?"

"You have provided me with everything I could have ever dreamed of. I have a beautiful house – a place where I can improve upon talent that I could nowhere else."

"We have moved you from place to place…"

"What child has not wanted to travel? I have seen more places in my lifetime than most will ever see. I am envied. And I am loved by the both of you." Elizabeth kissed Angelina on the cheek before opening the door. "I know that I am not the perfect child, but I hope that you are proud of me nonetheless."

Erik and Angelina both watched as Elizabeth left without another word said. Angelina turned to Erik with tears in her eyes.

"What would make her say something like that?"

Erik shook his head. "I believe I might have had something to do with that."

"Erik…"

"She has not been practicing, Angelina!" Erik stood and walked over to a window. Outside he could see patrons walking down the street and newsboys trying to sell the latest headline. "She is too enamored with the boy."

"Jean-Claude, I will admit, is a distraction. But why did you have to fill her thoughts with things such as those?"

"She must have had those moments before. I did not put those images into her mind."

Angelina walked up behind Erik and wrapped her hands around his waist. She leaned her face against his tense back. "She respects you, Erik. She admires and loves you."

"Then she must show me that. Instead of merely telling me she must show me. Why is it so hard for her to understand that I know that she loves me?"

"Because you are as hard on her as you were me when you were teaching me my lessons." He turned toward her and looked down at her. "She is not as strong as me. She is fragile and is still learning of the world around her."

"We have raised her since birth. You would think that she would know of the hardships that life has to offer."

"She still has much to learn." Angelina pulled away from his strong arms and began to clean-up the mess that lied before her. "She is not like me or you. Elizabeth is different – she is unique. We must learn to respect that."

"Angelina…"

She sighed and grasped his hand. Angelina didn't care if it was wet from dish water or not. "Give her the space that she needs. She will come to us if she needs us."

"This boy will hurt her, Angelina. I know his type."

"You think you know his type." Angelina turned back to start washing the dishes again. She peered out the window and saw the rotting swing hanging from a large tree branch. Angelina could hear Elizabeth's laughter from when she was a child as she swung on the swing. "But she knows to use her instincts. Let her be. She can only learn by example."

Erik just nodded and sat back down at the kitchen table. "Learn by example indeed."


	3. The Other Student

**A/N:** _To My Dearest Readers,_

_Thank you all for reading and reviewing our story. We hope that we are living up the expectations that you have set for the sequel. We promise you that this will be worth your time. Please continue to read and review. We appreciate all comments._

_With Much Love,_

_Erik_

**Chapter 3 – The Other Student**

The smell of freshly baked rolls hung high on the air about the kitchen. Angelina took in the scent and smiled. It was a becoming a daily ritual for her, but as long as she did it she could never tire of the smell.

She began to brush melted butter on the top of them when something stuck her in her side. Angelina screamed and turned to see a young man with a large smile on his face. She swatted him with the dish towel that was sitting on the table.

"Nicholas Thurston, how many times to do I have to remind you not to scare me like that?" she asked him through ragged breaths. Angelina quickly tried to regain her composure.

Nicholas laughed and sat down at the small kitchen table. He brushed his hair out of his face before grabbing an apple out of the fruit basket sitting in the middle of the table. Shinning the apple on his striped blue shirt, Nicholas smiled up at Angelina and quickly bit into the apple.

"How are you today, Madame Alcott?" he asked with a full mouth.

"Do not call me Madame Alcott. You know how I detest the name. And we are no longer in France." She shooed Nicholas's hand away from the rolls. "Call me Angelina, Nicholas…please."

"I know how Master Erik does not like me calling you that."

Angelina sighed. "And he knows how I dislike the name 'Alcott'. You know of the reason why we have it."

The young man nodded. "Of that I do." He looked around the room and leaned on the table to be closer to Angelina. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Do you believe Master Erik truly enjoys teaching me?"

She looked at him with wide eyes. "How could you even ask me that? He is constantly talking about his talented pupil."

Nicholas rolled his eyes. "He is more than likely talking about your daughter. I am not a great pupil, Angelina. I am far from it."

Nicholas looked down at his hands – worker's hands. It had been years since his fingers glided over the keys of a piano. His youth had brought him many different tutors, including that of a music tutor. She was an old bat that was nothing like who he had now. Since he had left home, he had been working at the textile factory down the street. It was a way to make ends meet without having to ask his parents for money.

"You are fond of music because of what Erik told you so long ago." Angelina smiled at him and sat down. "You tell me all the time that if it was not for him that you would not love it as much as you do now."

He nodded. "This is true." It had been almost 20 years since Angelina and Erik had saved him from what he thought was his fate. The steel cage had been his home, his face covered by a burlap sack with two holes that was the only way to see the world around him. The scar that marked his face had grown as he had. It had now seemed to slice from his forehead to the top of his lip – passing over his right sky blue eye. The scar was his downfall but also the thing that saved him.

"You were raised by a wealthy family with all that life had to offer."

"There are days when I still wish that you and Master Erik bore me up." He watched Angelina look at him curiously. "Please, do not think that the Thurstons treated me unkindly. They were wonderful parents, but you were the two that saved me from my horrible fate. Without you, I might not be alive."

"If you continue your lessons at the pace you are, you might regret that I saved you," she said as she smiled at him.

"I fear the wrath of your husband, Angelina."

"As well you should," Erik said from the doorway.

Angelina and Nicholas both looked and saw Erik standing there reading a newspaper. His eyes averted their gazes and continued to look at the words sitting on the page. The white mask, that had become his trademark, sat upon his face.

"Master Erik!" Nicholas quickly stood – knocking over the wooden chair he had been sitting on. "I did not know…"

"As you never do." He glanced up to see Angelina smiling. "I suppose you are here for a lesson and to not be harassing my beautiful wife?"

"He is not harassing me, Erik. You know as much."

"I was going to come to find you…," Nicholas stuttered. "Then I saw Madame Alcott…"

Angelina rolled her eyes at the mention of the name. Erik laughed behind the paper and folded it to put under his arm. He stepped toward Nicholas as the young man trembled in fear.

"Why do you still fear me after all of this time?"

"I do not fear you!" He stood taller as Erik shook his head. "Well, I suppose I do a little." He smiled as he looked down at his feet. "I fear your daughter more."

Erik roared with laughter as Angelina looked at Nicholas in shock. "Why on earth would you fear Elizabeth?" Angelina asked with curiosity. "She does not even hurt a fly."

"That you know of, Madame. Your daughter is the devil."

"That she is." Erik held up his hands as Angelina glared at him. "My dearest, you above all people know that Elizabeth keeps to the darkness."

"I wonder where she gets it from…," Angelina said with a raised eye brow.

Erik pushed Nicholas out of the room and shook his head as he quickly left behind him.

Angelina smiled as she went back to her daily ritual.

* * *

Nicholas stood near the large bay window that occupied the study. Shelves filled with books lined the walls. First editions of almost every piece of literature could be seen within the confines of the room. The sounds of the city could be heard even through the closed window. He gently pressed his hand to the pane as music filled his ears.

"Something seems to be bothering you," Erik said as he continued to play the melody. "Do you wish to tell me or wish to keep it bottled up?"

"It is nothing, Master Erik. I am just…preoccupied."

Erik smiled – knowing how Angelina had 'preoccupied' him. "Is it a woman?"

"If you wish to call her that…," Nicholas mumbled.

"Does she have a name?"

"I have given her several."

Erik laughed at the statement and continued to play. His fingers glided over the keys as he watched Nicholas look out of the window.

"You do not wish to tell me who she is?" he questioned.

"She is Aphrodite. She is the Goddess that invades my dreams – my very soul." Nicholas pounded his fist against the glass. "And I damn her every day for it."

"You cannot damn a Goddess, Nicholas. She controls the very fiber of your being. She is the one that has you rise each morning at the crack of dawn."

Nicholas smiled and looked back at Erik. "You are referring to Angelina?"

"Very much so. She stole the very essence of my being. She became something that haunted me – even when I slept. So do not think for one second that you are the only one who has been affected by this illness."

The door burst open as both men jumped. "Father, I…" Elizabeth stopped her statement as she saw Nicholas near the window. "I am sorry, Father. I did not know you had…company."

Nicholas sneered at the snide tone in her voice. "I can leave if you wish, Mademoiselle."

"Do not leave on my account." Elizabeth turned to Erik. "I will speak with you later."

"As you wish." Erik turned back to concentrating on his music.

Nicholas and Elizabeth stared at each other for several moments. Elizabeth received the upper hand and stuck her tongue out at him before quickly fleeing the room.

"She is the devil, Master Erik."

"Or at least the devil's daughter." Erik laughed as Nicholas went back to staring out the window.


	4. A Well Kept Secret

**A/N:** _Dearest Readers,_

_We promise that the action will be starting soon. The introduction of Nicholas and Elizabeth was crucial. We hope that you enjoy their company as much as you do ours. Once again, read and review. If there are any questions, do not hesitate to ask._

_With much love,_

_Angelina_

**Chapter 4 – A Well Kept Secret**

Elizabeth's shoes clicked on the wooden floor of the stage. The lights were blinding but she didn't mind it. Her eyes had become well-adjusted to the way it reflected off of the glossy wood over the many times she had been in the ornate building. The drawn red velvet curtains were always tied back by golden rope with large tassels. She admired the craftsmanship of the opera house. Elizabeth knew her father would adore it.

"You are quite early, Miss Elizabeth," said a voice behind her.

She smiled as she turned around to see an older man standing there in a gray wool jacket. He was a few inches shorter than her but he carried himself as if he was taller than the world.

"Mr. Barrett, I was not expecting to see you."

Harold Barrett smiled at Elizabeth as he stepped toward her. "I was preparing my orchestra to begin rehearsal when I saw you step onto the stage."

"I did not mean to interrupt…"

"Nonsense! You would never interrupt me, Miss Elizabeth. The time you spend with me and my orchestra is time well spent." He extended an arm and she took it quite readily. "We enjoy your company."

"I enjoy yours as well." She walked down the stage stairs and looked at the orchestra preparing in the pit. "What are you playing today?"

"Bizet's Carmen, Miss Elizabeth. One of your favorites, I believe."

Elizabeth nodded. "It is. I did not think the Met would be playing it this season."

"The owners have decided to with much resilience. They have received several letters from a man who wishes to see it performed. Auditions have already been posted for the lead female role." He smiled at her. "You should try out for it."

"No! I could never…" Elizabeth knew she could never sing in Carmen. Her mother had performed once – in Paris. Her mother, of course, had been a success. She knew that she could never have the caliber voice that her mother had. It would be mediocre at best.

"Then play in my orchestra – any instrument, Miss Elizabeth. I would love for you to be a part of it."

Her jaw dropped as the players looked toward her. They all smiled warmly at her as she smiled back. The stairs were narrow but Elizabeth took them slowly one-by-one. Each member greeted her on her way through. She stopped in front of the conductor stand and looked at the sheet music to Carmen. Her fingers grazed over the parchment.

"What is it, Miss Elizabeth?" Barrett asked.

"Have you ever wondered why the path you have taken in life leads you to where you are?"

"I wonder that every day. I wonder why my children are lawyers and bankers and I am only a conductor."

Elizabeth looked at him in shock. "You are not happy with being a conductor!"

"Forgive me, Miss Elizabeth, I did not mean for it to sound that way." He stepped closer to her as she continued to look at the music. "Music has been a part of my life since I was a little boy. My two sons have gone to the university – one now a banker and one now a lawyer. They are intelligent young men who have chosen their own path."

"And you, Mr. Barrett? Did you choose your own path?"

"Sometimes one is not allowed until it is too late."

Elizabeth merely nodded as her hands fell to her sides. "I know the feeling."

* * *

The rafters creaked as he walked across the narrow decks. He swatted ropes out of his way as he heard the orchestra beginning to tune their instruments. The sounds echoed throughout the opera house – giving him a sense of being at home.

Nicholas leaned on the rail in front of him and watched as Harold Barrett gave sheet music and instructions to his orchestra. He had listened to the orchestra play time and time again. Ever since he was a little boy, he would sneak into the opera house to hear each instrument play their own melody. The notes seemed to be carried to him on the whisper of the wind.

"Conduct them, Miss Elizabeth. I promise you that they will not bite," Mr. Barrett said.

He glanced down to see Elizabeth shaking her head. She stood in front of Barrett in a deep burgundy gown. Her golden tresses pinned up into a neat bun. Her sapphire eyes glistened from the spotlights higher above him even from where he stood.

"You would allow me to conduct them, Mr. Barrett?"

"Of course! The gentlemen would love to have you. Would you not?"

A resounding agreement came from the men. Nicholas smiled as Barrett handed her the conductor's wand. He watched as she stepped onto the platform and stood poised and ready to conduct.

"Gentlemen…"

Each of the men, sat ready to play their instruments. A beautiful sound resonated throughout the house as Elizabeth began to conduct. The wand was waved gracefully through the air.

Her pale skin seemed to glow as her eyes closed. Nicholas missed seeing the blue in her eyes. They enchanted him every time she was around.

_She is the devil. Only the devil would give me these thoughts._

The music called to him – as it did every second of every day. It consumed him like nothing else ever had before. The piece they played from Carmen was a favorite of his. He had climbed into the rafters of Carnegie Hall to hear it played when he was twelve. Now it was to be played in his favorite theater – the Metropolitan Opera House.

The music abruptly ended. Nicholas watched Elizabeth's petite hand give back the baton. Barrett helped her ascend the staircase and stand upon the stage once again. The burgundy dress swayed around her as she paced back and forth.

"Why is it that you never tell your father that you are here, Miss Elizabeth?"

"If he was to find out that I am doing something other than playing a piano, Mr. Barrett, you would no longer see me."

Barrett simply nodded and turned away from her. "You are one of the nicest young women I have ever met, Miss Elizabeth. The people who have been with the Met for years keep saying they would love to hear you perform. I have heard you – only once."

"It was a moment of weakness. The organ beneath the stage seemed to call to me."

"As most of our instruments do," said the violinist.

"The music calls to you, Miss Elizabeth," chimed in the pianist. "Your talent should not be contained in the confines of your home. You are an amazing musician."

The entire orchestra agreed. Nicholas continued to watch curiously as Elizabeth just looked at Barrett.

"That is just it, Mr. Barrett. I do not wish to play."

They all looked at her confused. Barrett stepped forward and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "My dear, what do you wish to do?"

She smiled. "I wish to write, Mr. Barrett. I want to write a great opera – the greatest opera of the century."

Nicholas tried to contain his laughter but could not. It echoed through the rafters and the opera house. He watched as both Barrett and Elizabeth looked high above to see what all of the commotion was about. Nicholas quickly silenced himself.

"That is a very bold goal," Barrett said turning back to Elizabeth. "I am sure your father would be very proud to hear you say that."

"You do not know my father."

Nicholas knew what Elizabeth was speaking of. Erik had a high hopes for her. Soon, Erik would be sending Elizabeth to a school in San Francisco where she could study dance and music. Nicholas knew in time that Erik would want Elizabeth to be a singer much like her mother was. It had broken his heart to hear that she would be sent away. He knew it broke Elizabeth's heart to know her father had already set her future in stone.

"Miss Elizabeth," Barrett took her hand and held it tight. "You are allowed to come here whenever you wish. We are inviting you to join us for the opening night of Carmen. If you do not wish to play that is your choice, but I wish for you to be with us."

Her eyes sparkled like lights on a Christmas tree. Nicholas watched her embrace Barrett almost to the point where the old man could not breathe.

"There is something else, Miss Elizabeth…"

Both Nicholas and Elizabeth looked at Barrett in wonder. Barrett gently laid the baton in Elizabeth's hand and she clenched her fingers around it.

"This orchestra will always be yours. One day I foresee you standing where I do and conducting your own orchestra with a fierce determination. And the opera you will be conducting will be your own. It will be something that comes from your heart."

Barrett left Elizabeth standing on the stage – holding the baton in her hand. Tears rained down her cheeks as she listened to the orchestra begin another piece from Carmen.

Nicholas stood high above and watched Elizabeth solemnly walk off of the stage. He knew what it was like to have high expectations from a parent and not want to uphold them. His parents wanted him to become a lawyer or an accountant. In his heart, he knew what he had wanted – music.

Music had been the thing that his soul craved day after day. It was the one thing that gave him peace. His parents could not understand why music consumed him as it did. Ever since Erik had told him what had set his soul free, Nicholas had sought it out for his own relief. The solitude he lived in was not somewhere he wanted to remain for his entire life. He wanted a family and children. He wanted someone to love him for whom and what he was.

Giving him what Nicholas wanted, his parents allowed him to sing in the children's choir at Mass on Sundays. It fulfilled his need until he became older and understood that there was more to music than just singing in a choir. The first trip to an opera at Carnegie Hall was what opened his eyes to the world around him.

Nicholas then made it his life mission to find the man that had given him the insight into music. It had been a little over two years since Erik had become a large part of his life once again. He had left his parents wealth and luxury and went to a lonely little apartment to start his lifelong dream. Music would consume his life and his quest for love would be pushed aside until it came to him.

_Perhaps it did and you are just ignoring it._

As he slowly descended from the rafters, his thoughts turned back to Elizabeth. She had caught his eye more than once in the past two days. It was as if she was a ray of sunshine that had entered through a window. Elizabeth had brightened his days since the first time he laid his eyes on her. As annoying as she was, Nicholas enjoyed seeing her while he received lessons from Erik. She was a breath of fresh air.

Nicholas snuck through the passageways to the light from the back stage door. He paused, looking at the opulence of the opera house. There was a vow, long ago, that he made to himself…

_I will sing in the Metropolitan Opera House. I will make my parents proud. I will make Erik and Angelina proud. The woman that I love will finally see me for me – as a man._


	5. An Unexpected Visitor

**A/N:** _Dearest Readers,_

_And here begins the turn of events. I hope that you are continuing to read and leave feedback as always. Enjoy!_

_With much love,_

_Erik_

Chapter 5 – An Unexpected Visitor

The large black leather chair sat close to the bay window in his study. He always moved it there as the night approached. The window was the only way he could see the world around him. The nightlife in New York City seemed to grow as the sun went down. The darkness always gave him a sense of being at home. He did not have a lair to travel down to any longer. All he had was his study to sneak away to and away from everything that had bothered him that day.

"Are you coming to bed?"

Erik looked toward the doorway and saw Angelina wrapped in a black silk robe. He spared no expense when it came to his family. They only received the best.

"In a little while."

Angelina sighed and walked over to the piano bench. She saw a copy of 'War and Peace' sitting on the bench next to her. Thumbing through it, she could feel Erik's gaze on her.

"You could not sleep, could you?" Erik asked with concern in his voice.

Angelina shook her head. "No. You know I cannot sleep without you beside me."

He smiled and held out a hand. She grasped it and let him draw her into his lap. His arms embraced her and she let her head rest on his shoulder.

"Why can you not tell me of the nightmares you have?"

"Because I do not want to burden you with that. They are just dreams, Erik."

"They are not just dreams if they will not allow you to sleep." He gently kissed her temple. "You have been like this for months."

"They will leave – in time," she said reassuring him.

Erik knew that the dreams would not fade. They had not been constant every night but Angelina had experienced them at least twice a week for almost three months. He had calmed her on more than one occasion by singing her back to sleep. Sweat had covered her brow and her heart beat had increased. He had Nicholas confer with several doctors and they had all said the same thing – bring her in for a check-up. Erik knew that Angelina would never allow herself to be examined for something so trivial.

"Will you sing a song from Carmen to me?"

Erik smiled and leaned in close to her ear. "Carmen will be performed on the Metropolitan Opera House stage."

Angelina's eyes went wide as she turned to him. "How do you know?"

"There was an article in the paper this morning. They are holding auditions for the lead female role…"

She shook her head. "I know what you are already thinking, Erik. The answer is no."

Angelina moved from Erik's embrace and sat down at the piano. It was old and worn but still played better than anything she had touched before. The organ that was in Erik's lair would always be better but the sound that escaped from the instrument that sat in front of her was a wonder. It had come with the house and Erik had tuned it himself upon discovery.

Her fingers hovered over the keys like a ghost would haunt a house. She had not played in months. It was a strain to find time to sit in the study and play. There was house work, laundry…all excuses as to why she would not play.

"Angelina, it is an amble opportunity…"

"I will not be auditioning." She let her fingers lightly touch the keys. "My answer is final."

"Your answer is never final." He rose from the chair and sat down next to her on the bench. "You have not sung on a stage since that night we left Paris." He sighed when he saw the sadness in her eyes. "Why would you deny yourself this?"

"Because I am a mother and a wife. I am no longer that young girl who dreamed of being a ballet dancer. I have duties to uphold."

"Duties be damned," Erik grumbled as he moved back toward the window. "I have never held you back, Angelina. If anything, I have encouraged you."

"I am not blaming you, Erik."

"Then why are you not going to audition for Carmen?"

Angelina had no answer. Ever since she had left Paris, she had found no need to sing on a stage. The childhood that she had was finished as soon as she had become pregnant with Elizabeth. Her days and nights had become occupied with tending to the newborn. She supported Erik in his composing as she raised their child.

"I have no answer, Erik."

He sighed, knowing that would be the answer that escaped her lips. "I wish for you to audition. If you do not get it, then at least you know you tried."

"For what purpose? Why are you so adamant about auditioning?" She looked at him as his gaze continued to watch the city below. "Did you fund the opera?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"In the hopes that I might see my angel on the stage one last time," Erik said solemnly. He turned and saw tears in Angelina's eyes. "You sacrificed your life because you loved me. I owe you everything, Angelina."

"I did not sacrifice my life. Is that what you have thought all of these years?" She watched him nod. "I grew up, Erik. That night I left with you from your lair, I grew up. I began a new life – a life with you."

"You would be a great opera singer now. You would be dancing on every stage from here to Paris. I have taken away that opportunity. You will never reclaim it."

Angelina turned away from his stare and let her fingers glide gracefully over the ivory keys. She would give him her answer by using music. Her eyes closed hearing the melody from Carmen filling her ears. It was an aria she had sung when she was merely seventeen. It was one she would not soon forget.

Erik smiled as the aria continued to be played by Angelina's delicate touch. His eyes lingered over her petite frame. The black silk robe she wore did not do her beauty justice. It seemed to swallow her and take away from her figure. Her pale skin seemed to shimmer in the moonlight that shone through the bay window. He could see the diamond ring on her finger that he had given her on their wedding night glimmering in the light. Erik could never tire of looking at his beautiful wife.

His eyes were distracted by a figure standing in the doorway. He smiled as he saw Elizabeth standing there. Her golden ringlets were about her shoulders and her dark red robe tied tightly around her.

Erik gestured for her to step inside and she readily did. She grasped his hand as he held onto her. They both watched Angelina continue to play.

"I did not know she could play so beautifully."

Erik smiled and whispered in Elizabeth's ear. "She is much like you. She does not practice as much as she should."

"Father…"

"You know this as much as I do. She is constantly doing things around the house for us, Elizabeth. She hardly has time to do anything that she wishes."

Elizabeth hung her head. She knew that the words her father spoke of were true. Her mother rarely had time to herself any more. It was rare to see her mother and father together for a long period of time. Her father was constantly working on his compositions while her mother was doing the duties of a dedicated wife and mother.

"Maybe we should hire someone to help mother."

Erik looked at her curiously. "And where will we find someone to accept working with someone like me?"

Elizabeth sighed and knew that her father would not be comfortable around anyone with his deformity. She had not even seen what lied behind the mask. Her mother had been the only one that knew what her father feared for her to see.

"Could they possibly only work a few hours a day while you are in your study?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of you helping your mother in the kitchen." He smiled as he watched Elizabeth grimace. "You have been spoiled your entire childhood. You have not washed dishes, cooked, or done any chores. I think you are now old enough to help your mother in the kitchen – even if it is only for one meal."

"But, father…," Elizabeth whined.

"Elizabeth, my decision is final. As of tomorrow, you will help your mother with at least dinner. Do we understand each other?"

Elizabeth nodded as Angelina finished the piece. Angelina smiled and sighed. "It has been ages since I have played."

"You will be doing it more often. Elizabeth has volunteered to help you in the kitchen for dinner." He smirked as Elizabeth glared at him. "You will need time to rehearse for Carmen."

"Erik…"

Before Angelina could finish her statement, the doorbell rang. Erik and Angelina both looked at each other.

"Who would ring this late at night?" Angelina asked.

"Stay here," Erik commanded.

Erik descended the staircase leaving both Angelina and Elizabeth upstairs. The red wooden door seemed to loom in front of him. He quietly undid the lock upon the door and opened it. Standing there was a young boy, no more than ten. He looked up into Erik's eyes and nearly screamed.

"What is it, boy?"

"Please, sir…I was asked to come here to bring you this…" The young boy held up an envelope with a black wax seal on the back. He watched as Erik eyed him curiously. "She sent me here with it."

"Who did?"

"A young woman with eyes as black as the night sky. Her skin was dark too. She scared me, sir. I did not want to make her angry so I did not ask her name."

Erik nodded and took the envelope from the boy's hand. He placed a coin into his palm for his troubles. "Go home and to bed. Do not see her again. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

He watched the young boy run down the street before closing the door. His fingers touched the black seal but quickly pulled away as if it was searing his skin. The seal was unfamiliar to him – black wax with no particular shape. He broke the seal and took out a single piece of paper. The word was scribbled in black ink and seemed to drip as the woman wrote it on the parchment.

The one word was enough to turn Erik's blood to ice. The envelope dropped from his hand as he stared at the paper in his hand.

_Revenge…_


	6. Ill Made Decisions

Chapter 6 – Ill Made Decisions

Elizabeth sat in the middle of the grassy park and watched patrons walk down the gravel path. The midday sun shone high above. The ivory-colored dress she wore seemed to blend in well with the surroundings. She had decided to leave her hair down about her shoulders – not very typical for her but right for the situation.

Jean-Claude Cassell was going to meet her although he seemed to be running late. Her stomach was a ball of knots. Every time he passed her on the street Elizabeth wanted to faint. She was a fortunate young woman to have met such a fine young man.

_If only father agreed…_

To her father, Jean-Claude seemed like the bad apple fallen far from the tree. He was the only man that her father had not approved of since she had been in New York. She had made friends with musicians, construction workers, writers, and many other men in different professions. Many of them were considerably older but her father did not seem to mind. Jean-Claude seemed to be a different story.

"Why is a beautiful young woman sitting by herself in a vast park?" asked a voice behind her.

Elizabeth smiled and looked up to see a handsome young man standing behind her. She quickly stood and looked down at her feet. "The man I was to meet seemed to be running late."

"The cad!" he exclaimed. "What man in their right mind would be late to meet someone as beautiful as you?"

"I am not sure, sir. Perhaps you can take his place."

She squealed as he lifted her and swung her around. Elizabeth had never felt so safe in someone's arms before. Jean-Claude was debonair and charming. His hazel eyes enchanted her while his tanned skin seemed to shimmer from the sunlight that was cast on him. He was well-dressed in a navy blue business suit. It hugged every curve and muscle on his body. His midnight black hair seemed out of place in the colorful park.

"I am truly sorry I am late. They held a meeting after lunch."

"No worries. I would have waited here all day for you."

His lips on her forehead made her eyes close. He was always gentle with her – never forceful or crude. Elizabeth was glad to have met someone like him. It was rare to find a true gentleman in the middle of a large city such as New York.

"May we walk, Elizabeth? I have been sitting all day."

Elizabeth nodded and took his hand. Jean-Claude entwined their fingers together as he led her down the path through Central Park. The large trees that grew seemed to cast enough shade to keep them cool in the summer sun. The newspapers had reported it was the hottest summer they had been through. Elizabeth could feel the heat wanting to suffocate her. It was hard to breathe with a corset on. It was a miracle within itself that she was still conscious.

"How is your mother?" Jean-Claude asked, hoping to break the ice.

"She is doing well. Father is trying to convince her to audition for Carmen that is to be performed at the Met. She is resisting his advances."

"She must be a strong woman to do that. Even I would fall prey to his requests. Your father scares me, Elizabeth."

Jean-Claude had only met Erik once, but it was a first encounter he would not soon forget. He had gone to pick Elizabeth up for their second date. Jean-Claude thought it only proper to meet her parents before escorting her on other engagements. Her mother was pleasant but wary of his intentions with Elizabeth. Jean-Claude understood her pretensions. It was Erik that had frightened him.

The white mask was nothing compared to the anger that lay behind his eyes. Elizabeth had prepared him for her father's strange appearance. It did not startle him as much as he thought it would. The anger, however, seemed to boil inside of the man. Jean-Claude knew that a father would not be happy of a man courting his daughter, but Erik's rage was more than just protection. Erik's rage was a barrier to keep Elizabeth well guarded from any harm from the outside world.

"Please, Jean-Claude, do not let me father frighten you. He is merely a man."

"A man with a daughter who is being courted by a man." He sighed and looked over at Elizabeth. "He does not appreciate me courting you."

"It is not his decision," Elizabeth stated. "It is my life and I will be with whom I please."

"You would cross your father to be with me?"

"I would cross a lake of fire to be with you." She smiled at him and put his arm around her waist. "Do you doubt me?"

"And Nicholas?"

Elizabeth stopped short at the mention of her father's student's name. Nicholas was a young man who lived with nothing but hopes and dreams. He was definitely her father's student. Nicholas loved music – lived music. There was nothing he would not do for her father. He had been saved, many years ago by her mother and father. She was not sure if he felt he owed them a debt or was in her presence just to annoy her.

"What of Nicholas?" she asked curiously.

"He has a crush on you, Elizabeth."

She laughed and could not stop. Tears pooled in her eyes as she looked over at Jean-Claude. "You are absolutely mad."

"Am I?" Jean-Claude turned Elizabeth to him and looked at her beautiful features. He had fallen in love with her sea blue eyes and pale skin. Her voice was what did him in. He didn't want to lose that. "Am I wrong, Elizabeth?"

"Yes, you are wrong." She could not believe what she was hearing. "You are jealous of a man that holds no ties to my heart. Only one man does and that's you. You know this."

Jean-Claude kissed her gently at first and then passionately. He held her close to him – feeling the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her dress. She tasted like sugar and honey – sweet and alluring. The sensation he felt with her would not change in a thousand years. He loved her more than anything in his life. Jean-Claude knew it was time. He must do what he was told to do.

Pulling from her embrace, Jean-Claude smiled at her. "Elizabeth, there is something I must tell you."

"Of course. Anything…"

"I have to go away for awhile."

She looked at him curiously. "Why?"

"There is something I must do – a ritual if you will."

"A ritual? I do not understand."

"Come with me. Join me and help me with it." He entwined his fingers with her. "I promise you that you will not be disappointed."

"Jean-Claude, I have no idea what you are talking about. If I just leave on day and do not return my parents would be very cross with me. Explain to me what you are doing and I might possibly get permission to go."

He sat her down on the grass and sat beside her. "There is this…group that I am joining. It is an exclusive group, Elizabeth. Only a select few are offered a spot."

"Then why would I go with you?"

Jean-Claude could not find the right words. The group he was joining was exclusive and the things it did was hard to explain. If he got granted permission to join, he could ask one other to stand beside him. He wanted Elizabeth to be beside him. He wanted her to walk the Rite of Passage with him. They were meant to be together. He wanted her to see that.

"If I am granted into this group, then I am able to invite anyone in that I wish." He smiled at her. "Elizabeth, I want that person to be you."

"Jean-Claude…"

"Please, Elizabeth. I love you."

Her heart stopped as she looked at him with tears in her eyes. The only people that ever said they loved her were her parents. She never thought, in her wildest dreams, that any one would ever say they loved her. Jean-Claude had said it and it did not give her the sensation that she had once thought. She was devoid of the happiness she was sure of that was to proceed such a declaration.

_Do I love him?_

"You do not have to say anything right now, but I do need a decision by the end of the week. Next Monday I am to do the trials that they wish for me to do. I do not want to go through them without you." He gently kissed her forehead and smiled at her. "You mean everything to me. I want you beside me when I am granted one of the greatest honors that can be bestowed upon a man."

"I will consider what you have told me." She smiled at him and lightly touched his shoulder. "I must go. My father has offered to take me to the opera tonight. I must go home and get ready."

"Enjoy yourself and please remember that I will always love you."

Jean-Claude watched Elizabeth walk away without another word said. The breeze that blew from the Atlantic rustled her blonde hair about her shoulders. He wished to feel the silky strands between his fingers and to feel her tremble from his touch.

_She_ had promised everything to Jean-Claude. He would not be denied. Elizabeth would be his in due course. There would be no denying him once he had provided what _she_ wanted from him. There were many parts and instructions and had to follow them to the letter. The Rite of Passage was one of the very few on a full page of items that he had to do. Elizabeth was a pawn – a beautiful one at that.

Did Elizabeth suspect his deception? He was doing this so that they could be together in happiness. There was a rich reward to be given to him at the end of his tasks. _She_ promised him all the riches of the world – including his beloved Elizabeth. _She_ had also told him that Elizabeth's father would not stand in the way. If the plan had gone according to what she had projected, Elizabeth would be his within a month's time.

He had to remain patient. His family's honor and dignity was on the line. The love he possessed for Elizabeth would have to be put on hold until he had completed what he must. Soon she would tremble beneath his touch – her milky-colored skin would be caressed in a way that only she could have dreamed of. She would scream in ecstasy and then lie sated in his arms. His warm embrace would sooth her and calm her. Lips would devour every inch of her body – driving her to the brink of madness.

Jean-Claude smiled as he started walking out of the park. Even the mere thought of taking Elizabeth every night gave him satisfaction. There would be no one to stand in the way. He would have what was rightfully his. In the process, _she_ would have what _she_ deserved. Everything was going according to plan.


	7. The Man in Black

_Sorry for the delay in the update. I'm trying to find the story once again. I have been so busy with other stories that I lost track of this one. I hope to find the balance again so hopefully I'll have a few more chapters done. There have been doubts, made by me, that this wasn't as good as it should be. Please leave me feedback and let me know what you think. Thanks! Thanks to the Aria Database for the lyrics to Carmen. They are not mine._

**Chapter 7 – The Man in Black**

Thunder crashed end echoed throughout the study. It did not disturb the music that vibrated the cream-colored walls. Fingers danced over the ivory keys of the old piano with passion and fire. They had a purpose – a need to fulfill.

Erik smiled as he watched Angelina stand near the piano with her eyes closed. The music flowed through her as it once did so many years ago. Her fingers tapped on the glossy black wood to the rhythm of the melody he played. She knew the tune well. It was only eighteen years ago that she had sung the song in Paris and brought the city to its knees.

"Let's see…I'll try a turn." Her voice was as if the heavens opened above them. "Diamond, spade…death! I read it well…me first. Then him…for both all death."

Erik knew that Angelina had been holding back. Her family had come first – her voice second. It had been years since she had been on a stage. It had taken much convincing on his part to have her audition for Carmen which was to be performed in several weeks time. The auditions were to be held tomorrow and he would make sure she was well prepared.

"In vain in order to avoid harsh remarks…in vain you shuffle…" She paused, allowing her eyes to open and focus on Erik. "That settles nothing; the cards…are sincere and won't lie!"

A knock at the door was the first distraction they had all day. Erik got up and peered out the window, seeing no one standing in the doorway.

"Let me go see who it is."

Something inside of him was stirring. Erik remembered the note from a few nights prior. The feelings had not subsided but had grown in intensity since he had seen that single word printed on the small parchment: revenge.

Grasping Angelina's arm, he shook his head. "I will get it."

"Erik, it is broad daylight. I will answer the door."

She broke from his grasp and walked down the stairs. The feelings of dread and fear were quickly welling up inside of him. He rushed down the stairs and into the small room behind the parlor. Erik peered from behind the doorway and saw Angelina open the large white door. A gold knocker sat right below the small windows bearing the name 'Alcott'.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, I hope you can," said a man with an English accent. "I am looking for one Erik Alcott."

"I am afraid he is unavailable."

"Would you be Ms. Alcott?"

Angelina stood there for a moment, just looking at the man standing in the doorway. It was unusual for a man of his stature to be wearing all black. His suit, his tie, even his dress shirt was black. It was as if the man was in mourning. His reading glasses made him seem distinguished. However, Angelina knew that there was something more to him than that.

"Yes, I am," she simply replied.

"May I have a few words with you?"

"Of course."

* * *

Erik sighed and watched as Angelina let the man in black step inside their home. She gently closed the door behind him and led him to the parlor. Erik quickly moved into the small room and looked through a hole in the wall. He watched as Angelina and the man in black sat across from each other.

* * *

Angelina watched the man with curious eyes. "How can I be of service?"

"I am so rude. Please let me introduce myself. I am Francois Deveau."

She smirked. "Your English accent led me to believe you were from London or Wales. I was mistaken."

"I was born in Paris, Ms. Alcott. I have traveled for many years before finally settling down."

"I see." Angelina smiled and leaned back in her chair. She looked toward the mirror hanging on the opposite wall from where she sat. Angelina knew what lied behind it. "I know a great deal about traveling."

"So I have heard."

Erik watched Angelina's expressions through the hole in the wall. The mirror in the parlor covered it nicely. He had made sure that the shop maker made the mirror specifically to his specifications. If he could not be in the room with his family, he would watch over them to make sure they were safe.

How had Deveau known they had traveled? Did he know Deveau years ago? Or was he linked to the night only a few days prior?

* * *

"I am sorry. How does my husband know you?"

"He does not know me, Ms. Alcott. He knows the person I work for."

Angelina looked at him bewildered. "I do not understand."

Pulling papers from his satchel, he laid them out on the table in front of Angelina. Francois looked at her as she looked down at the papers. "Do you know of your husband's time in Persia?"

* * *

Erik's eyes widened as he heard the word echo in his mind.

_Persia…_

He had not thought of Persia in many years. What had happened there he wished to have stayed there. The history…the events that had happened there had never been uttered between him and Angelina. It was a past he did not want to relive.

* * *

"Did you say Persia?"

Francois merely nodded. "He spent quite some time there. Almost ten years if I remember right."

"You knew him then?"

"As I have said before, I have never met your husband. My employer has."

"And what does your employer want with my husband?"

"She wishes for certain…debts to be repaid."

Angelina began to fear the worst. She had thought she knew everything of Erik's past. It was hard enough to begin to understand the past with her father, mother, and Erik. Now there was a past in Persia she could not begin to fathom. Who was this woman in search of Erik? And what debts had to be paid?

"Does he owe her money?"

Francois's laughter filled the parlor. It made her blood run cold and her palms sweat. Whatever debt had to be repaid, it was not going to be something she was looking forward to.

"Ms. Alcott, is your husband at home?"

"As I have told you before, Mr. Deveau, my husband is tending to other matters. If you cannot discuss with me what the problem is, then I suggest you wait for another time."

Francois rose from his seat and looked down at Angelina. "It is most unfortunate that he is not at home." He started gathering the papers that were strewn about the table. "I wish you good luck in your audition tomorrow afternoon."

Angelina slowly rose from her chair – the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. "How do you know of my audition?"

"My employer makes sure she knows of the actions of everyone in your home. Right now your daughter is with Mr. Cassell. I know of the hatred your husband bears toward him. It is unfortunate. The boy is a fine match for your daughter."

"Now, listen here…," Angelina began to state with a loud roar.

"You do not need to raise your voice to me, Ms. Alcott. Your family is well watched. It is in…safe hands." He smiled as he moved to the doorway. "I will return in several days time. Please tell your husband that I wish to see him." There was a pause – a deafening silence. "I will see myself out."

Angelina waited in silent terror as she heard the front door close shut. Her sky blue eyes glanced over to see Erik standing in the doorway. Her breathing was labored – her chest heaving. Fear consumed her.

"Angelina…"

"Our family is being watched. They know where Elizabeth is right now as we speak. They know I will audition for Carmen tomorrow. They know we travel from port to port. They know _who_ we are. The name Alcott was merely a formality for him."

"Please, listen to me…," he pleaded.

"Persia, Erik. I want to know all about Persia and I want to know this instant."


End file.
